


As a Friend, of Course

by steelwater



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode: s02e03 The Reichenbach Fall, Episode: s03e01 The Empty Hearse, First Kiss, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slash, Stupid Boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 14:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11853069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelwater/pseuds/steelwater
Summary: "You can move right back in, if you want. Mrs. Hudson kept your room as it was, the sentimental woman."





	As a Friend, of Course

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place during The Empty Hearse.
> 
> Season four broke my heart. At the moment, I can't bring myself to watch any episode of the show. Fics are what I've and writing this helped a bit. I hope it helps you too.
> 
> This wasn't betaed, just had to get it out. If someone wants to beta this, than that would be great.
> 
> Canon quote from here: http://arianedevere.livejournal.com/30648.html

"I love you."

He was sure he said it. Sherlock had fantasized about John saying it many times, so he thought he might be fantasizing again. But now he heard it. He must have heard it. 

"You were the best man, and the most human... human being that I’ve ever known and no-one will ever convince me that you told me a lie. And... I... I love you."

And then John touched his grave and cried silently, his hand over his face. Even when he was alone in a graveyard he was too scared to show he was crying.

I. Love. You. Those three words hunted Sherlock for a year in a half while he was running around Europe and dismantling Moriarty's web.

He would dream about them at night. Every time things got harder than usual he would hang on to those words. And in his mind, he would say them back all the time.

And now, John was standing in front of him in Baker Street's living room. The whole Moran fiasco was over, London saved, Mycroft threatening him with a knighthood again, and John was in Baker Street. Smiling at him.

He was sure that after everything would be over, John would ask Mary to marry him. He of course interrupted John when John tried to do that at the restaurant. He of course knew that John was going to propose. He was not, after all, a stupid man. He knew it from the second he saw the doctor. His shoulders tense, looking around to see if, whoever it was, was walking back from the toilets, his hands constantly checking his jacket pocket.

And the moment Sherlock tried, for the second time, to surprise John, was not accidental. Yes, he tried once before, hoping to avoid encountering the woman at all, but when that did not work, he timed it to when John was about to take out the ring and propose. He knew it was petty, but he did not care whatsoever. 

And so, when everything was over, he was sure that John would ask Mary to marry him and Sherlock would have to pretend that he was happy for them.

But that did not happen.

John came to Baker Street after just breaking up with Mary. He did not say anything but Sherlock knew.

And with this shocking turn of events, Sherlock was considering doing what he was petrified of, more than he has ever been of anything else in his life. Asking John about those three words.

But after two years of being apart, of feeling for the first time in his life how it is to be away from someone you love so much, he decided to take the chance, because if he did not do it and something would happen, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

“I heard you."

"Hmm?" John looked up from his tea cup, putting it on the small table beside his chair.

"When you came to my grave, a few months after I jumped, I heard you. You said that I was human and that you don't believe I lied to you. And... and you said that you love me."

John looked at him in horror. He looked like he had just seen a ghost. Sherlock was already beginning to regret this.

"Oh, yes, I meant as a friend, of course. As a friend."

"Oh, yes, as a friend. Yes, I figured as much." 

Sherlock always made it his mission to tell John that his writing was over-romanticized, but at that moment he could not but think of the horrible cliché of a heart breaking. He knew it was not really happening, but it felt like something was ripping to a million pieces inside his chest, and the pieces smashing against each other. He had never felt anything like it.

"Right. Well," Sherlock said, forcing a smile onto his face. He was, after all, a good actor. "You can move right back in, if you want. Mrs. Hudson kept your room as it was, the sentimental woman. I know Mary is staying at the apartment and you might need a place, so..."

"Yes, I'd like that. Also, I wouldn't want to stick you with paying the rent alone. Mrs. Hudson charges so highly."

They both smiled at each other, Sherlock letting out a small laugh.

They were quiet for a few moments, both looking at the floor, each lost in his own thoughts, until Sherlock coughed awkwardly.

"Well, I can tell Mycroft to send a lorry tomorrow. No need to hire one by yourself."

"Yes," John said, chuckling. He walked over to the table near which Sherlock was standing and placed his wallet and keys on it, as if reclaiming the furniture back to himself. "After all the shite he made me go through, I think he can pay for my moving. Right bastard."

Sherlock smiled at that. It was instinctive for him to smile after Mycroft was insulted.

He knew he did not get the answer he wanted, he knew John coming back would hurt as much as it would feel good, but he also knew that he would never get the chance again to say those words to John.

John was with his back to him when he spoke. It was easier that way.

"I love you too. As a friend, of course."

John turned around and looked at him. No matter how hard he tried, Sherlock could not read his expression. It kept changing. 

Finally, it settled on something, which he still could not read. John was standing quite close to him and he stepped even closer.

"Just as a friend. Yes, of course."

"Of course."

"Oh, for fuck's sake." He said, and grabbed Sherlock's face with both his hands. Then he crashed their lips together.

Sherlock immediately wrapped his hands round John's shoulders, and he could not stop himself as a sigh of relief came out of his mouth. But soon after he tightened his embrace and opened his mouth again, this time to let John's tongue in.

Again, Sherlock was disgusted with himself over the stupid, over-romanticized metaphors that floated in his head, but it felt like breathing air for the first time after a long time underwater. He had never felt anything like it, had never thought a kiss could feel like this. And the pieces of his stupid, sentimental heart seemed to be reattaching.

After a while, John broke the kiss and leaned his forehead on Sherlock's. Sherlock could feel the weight of John's world on his forehead, but he did not mind at all.

"I've been so stupid. So stupid. For so long." John lifted his head and looked Sherlock in the eye. "I'm so, so sorry. For everything. For not saying anything. I'm a right pillock."

Sherlock smiled at him, tightening his grip. "I've been stupid as well."

"But not as much as I. You had the guts to say that tonight. What if I stuck to my stupid "as a friend" line? I'd be spending the rest of my life miserable and shouting inwardly at myself. I love you. I love you so much." And he kissed him again, much more forcefully this time.

Sherlock could not have enough of it. He did not think he ever would.

John broke the kiss again and shook his head, muttering quietly, "Stupid. So stupid."

"Right, so we've established that you are stupider than I am, which we already knew since the day we'd met." John rolled his eyes but moved his hands to Sherlock's back and held tightly, his fingers clutching Sherlock's suit jacket. "But can we stop with the self-flagellation and go back to your mouth being on mine? You've always been better with actions than with words.

John pulled his left hand from Sherlock's back and gave him a shove on the chest. "You right git. And you've always been the more annoying one."

"I won't argue with that." He smiled, a big genuine smile, for the first time in a long while, and then John cupped his neck, tilted his head and kissed him again, while loads of clichés about love and kisses and finally feeling at home swiveled in his mind.


End file.
